[center][h1]OYUNA[/h1][/center]
[color=khaki]Somewhere on the ocean bottom, there lived a village.

That would have sounded impressive before the oceans got drained. [i]Now[/i], thought Oyuna as she rose from her crouch, [i]it just looks like a mud desert. A carcass-littered, plant-strewn mud desert.[/i]

Where her community lived wasn’t so bad, though. They’d finally finished shifting all the bloated, rotting fish corpses to their designated burning area. Corals had been chipped away and tossed into the pile. They were supposed to burn shells as well, but Oyuna rather liked collecting them. They were pretty, and hard in a way that was different from other materials. She held up the one she’d found, eyeing it in the light of their new sun. It was pink, striped with deep purple. They were much more exciting colours than the shells they used to find closer to shore!

Shell in hand, Oyuna walked back toward the ring of sand-dusted mud huts that made up her home. In the centre of the ring stood the massive oddly shaped golem, the figurative flagpole of their little community. None of them had been able to figure out its mysterious lights and inscriptions. 

Not [i]yet[/i].

A few folks drying out kelp waved towards her as she passed. Some others called out her name in greeting. She hurried on without more than a polite nod; if she did any more, they might ask her for help with their chores and that would be time lost. There were plenty enough hands to go around when everyone else was interested in nothing more than their day-to-day lives. Missed opportunities, really. They were sitting on top of a [i]treasure trove[/i] of something big. Life-changing. Oyuna just knew it. She just had to prove it.

In the space behind her home – a modest mud hut – lay her treasure. Rows upon rows of clay tablets, dried in the sun. On their surfaces were etched symbols, neat and patterned. The same symbols as the ones that adorned the golem. Oyuna had copied them, using the pointed end of a thin, spiral shell to carve each stroke into soft clay. She hadn’t managed to copy [i]all[/i] of them, for that would be impossible to do so in a single lifetime, but she had done enough to begin analysing for patterns. For [i]meaning[/i]. 

That was what she had told herself days ago. Now she stood before her tablets, and stared, and scowled. She had etched these symbols, she had found their patterns, but for the life of her, she could not figure out their meaning! She was sure that they [i]had[/i] meaning, for why would they glow and flicker upon touch? Why would they cause magic beyond their understanding, if not for a purpose none of them could see? It was frustrating. It was blood-boiling.[/color]

[b][i]This is [/i]so[i] cute.[/i][/b]

[color=khaki]Oyuna looked around, bewildered. She saw no one.[/color]

[b][i]Hey. Down here.[/i][/b]

[color=khaki]She looked down. There was a rock by her foot, barely bigger than her ankle.[/color]

[b][i]You seem to be in a bit of a pickle. Heh. You shouldn’t be, you know? Not in this place. But you are one stubborn woman, aren’t you?[/i][/b]

[color=khaki]Kneeling down, Oyuna picked up the rock – or tried to. It wouldn’t budge.

‘[b]What are you?[/b]’ she asked.[/color]

[b][i]What am I? How rude! So blunt! You don’t ask a person [/i]what[i] they are, do you? And after I’ve offered you conversation too![/i][/b]

[color=khaki]‘[b]My apologies[/b],’ said Oyuna, somewhat reluctantly. She was not one to offer politeness to a rock simply because it demanded it of her, but there was some truth to its words. Her parents had raised her to be a person of manners, after all. ‘[b]Who are you?[/b]’

Even though the rock did not move, she felt the impression of a smile aimed upon her.[/color]

[b][i]I am the Patron of Obstinacy[/i][/b][color=khaki], said the rock with no mouth, [/color][b][i]and you, Oyuna Erdene, have caught my attention.[/i][/b]

[color=khaki]‘[b]A Patron[/b],’ repeated Oyuna. ‘[b]Are you a god?[/b]’[/color]

[b][i]Ha! If only. No, my dear, I am but a sliver of what makes a god.[/i][/b]

[color=khaki]‘[b]Then I am not interested.[/b]’

A pause. [/color][b][i]...Perhaps you misunderstand. A sliver of forces beyond your imagination is still a significant portion of the impossible at your fingertips. You would be remiss in overlooking me.[/i][/b]

[color=khaki]‘[b]That’s not it[/b],’ said Oyuna. ‘[b]What would I do with a Patron of Obstinacy? If you were the Patron of Knowledge or even the Patron of Language, then I might be so inclined to listen to what you have to offer. But you embody stubbornness. I do not intend to understand this golem by beating it with a rock.[/b]’[/color]

[b][i]Again, so quick to insult! I should leave you here if this ungrateful attitude is all you have to offer me.[/i][/b][color=khaki] The rock did move, then, rolling on its edges away from Oyuna. Oyuna watched it go. It reached quite a distance before it said, [/color][b][i]You know, this is the part where you call out and beg me to return and explain myself.[/i][/b]

[color=khaki]It did not yell, but Oyuna heard its voice as though it was still by her feet. And so she did not bother calling out her reply.

‘[b]If you truly are the Patron of Obstinacy, then you would not leave me before achieving what you wanted.[/b]’ She quirked an eyebrow. ‘[b]So are you what you claim to be?[/b]’[/color]

[b][i]Ugh. Fine.[/i][/b][color=khaki] The rock was by her tablets now. Oyuna had not seen it move. [/color][b][i]You are too insightful for a mortal who is naught but a mere babe in this world. But I suppose you would not have interested me otherwise.[/i][/b]

[color=khaki][i]I’m 36[/i], thought Oyuna, grumpily, but did not voice her protest aloud.

‘[b]Why have you come here, Patron of Obstinacy?[/b][/color]

[b][i]To offer you a boon[/i][/b][color=khaki], it said, simply. [/color][b][i]But first, let’s get rid of unwanted ears, shall we?[/i][/b]

[color=khaki]Oyuna looked about. Had someone wandered by, caught sight of one of their own conversing with a rock? No, no one was nearby. A hare sat by the back entrance of her hut, golden nose twitching. Oyuna frowned. That didn’t seem right.

The ground beneath it shot up in a rough pillar of dirt, launching the hare into the open sky. It did not fall back down. Instead, it became a speck that vanished into the distance.[/color]

[b][i]You sleep, Oyuna[/i][/b][color=khaki], said the Patron of Obstinacy. [/color][b][i]As do the rest of your village. And still, you persist in deciphering these golems. I am here to grant you your wish.[/i][/b]

[right][i]To be continued...[/i][/right]
[hr][hr][center][h1]ᦓ꠸᥅ꪀꪖ[/h1][/center]
[color=#e1ceff]They were being accosted in their own realm. [i]Ridiculous.[/i]

These... [i]things[/i] had appeared shortly after Sirna had forcefully ejected that pathetic dream shaman's community from the Dreamscape. Squawky, little manifestations of Ideals. One had claimed to be the Patron of Nightmares; another the Patron of Darkness; and yet [i]another[/i] the Patron of Oblivion. All three were chattering at Sirna, their forms nothing but black clouds that did nothing to discern one from the other. They were either unwilling to or incapable of defining themselves further in Sirna's presence – Sirna did not care which was the case.[/color]

[b][i]You interfered!

You cast them out!

Will you leave us to starve?[/i][/b]

[color=#e1ceff]‘[b]You are Patrons[/b],’ said Sirna, unkindly. ‘[b]You do not starve. What does it matter what I do to the mortals abusing my realm?[/b]’[/color]

[b][i]It matters what you do when you favour one domain over the other![/i][/b][color=#e1ceff] shrilled the biggest black cloud. Ah. This one must be Oblivion, judging from the tantrum it was throwing.[/color] [b][i]You should have let those mortals rot by their own hand. It is not up to you to decide what fate befalls them![/i][/b]

[color=#e1ceff]‘[b]I still fail to see how I have done wrong by you. Any of you[/b],’ tacked on Sirna, as their moon faced Darkness and Nightmares. ‘[b]If anything, Ashuru’s inhabitants are wracked by nightmares as of late. Is that not enough for you rabble?[/b]’[/color]

[b][i]You watch[/i][/b][color=#e1ceff], sneered Nightmares.[/color]

[b][i]You wait[/i][/b][color=#e1ceff], scoffed Darkness.[/color]

[b][i]And you claim the work of others as your own[/i][/b][color=#e1ceff], lamented Oblivion. [/color][b][i]We’re never getting anywhere while you dawdle about in your corner of the universe.[/i][/b]

[color=#e1ceff]Sirna thought privately that they weren’t obligated to [i]get[/i] anywhere when they were, quite literally, gods and sentient metaphorical manifestations of concepts – but they had the strangest feeling that these Patrons would not take well to such a response.

‘[b]I see[/b],’ they said. ‘[b]So you wish me to lead these mortals to ruin with a stronger hand.[/b]’[/color]

[b][i]Yes![/i][/b][color=#e1ceff] squealed all three.

Sirna did not have eyes to roll with. They made do with a spray of water from the crest their waterfall body.

‘[b]Very well. If it would get all of you to leave me be. Now [i]leave[/i].[/b]’

They did. Now Sirna was left with the begrudging duty of doing their [i]job[/i], apparently. With the spread of the lullaby shrooms over Ashuru, they supposed that did, at the very least, leave them with options aplenty of mortals stuck in the Dreamscape with no course for return.

‘[b]Now[/b],’ muttered Sirna, ‘[b]to find a mortal or two...[/b]’[/color]
[center][h2]~[/h2][/center]
[hider=ACTION LOG]
• [b]MORTAL:[/b] Oyuna is visited by the Patron of Obstinacy as she studies her golem clay records and finds out that her entire village is caught in the throes of an endless dream. The Patron kicks out a listening Dream Guide and proposes a pact.
• [b]SIRNA:[/b] Sirna gets one-star reviews from the Patrons of Darkness, Nightmares and Oblivion on job performance. What's Darkness doing there? No one knows. The other two certainly didn't invite him. Anyway, Sirna agrees to screw with more mortal heads to shut them all up and is now in search of some poor mortal to mess with.

[right]Conviction Balance: 9[/right][/hider]